Curse of a Vampire

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  1. #21
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    Curse of a Vampire
    The despair of the servant


    A Tattoo appeared on jacks' shoulder He knew what it meant. It was a summons. He slid through the nearest wall of the building and walked through the wall of the lobby, and he nodded to the guard and said "sign me in." The guard did as he was told. Then jack walked through another wall and slid up behind the others already in the room. "Juli Goddamn it's been a while hasn't it" he said as he leaned on the wall, as mikaj's head materialized out of th
    e
    wall and said "i don't know what is going on but whatever it is it's big the concil is on its way and the amount of spiritual activity is immense this could easily go very bad very quickly."

    'so this could be something important if the council is involved. master didn't inform me of this so it means i'm somehow involved, and if michael is involved then it's definetly serious."
    Last edited by immabrit; 06-06-2011 at 12:43 AM.

  2. #22
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    Curse of A Vampire
    Knightmare

    Arthur was walking along the streets of the slums of New York. Even after 600 years Arthur wasn't surprised that there were still shit holes in the world. The streets were dirty and every inch of the buildings were covered with filth. The stench was even worse, it was a mix of rotten milk, garbage, and corpses. The buildings were quite loud, outside you could see the lights of people partying having a good time. Arthur left the part of the street that stilled had working lights in it.

    It would be hard for a person to see in the darkness, however Arthur wasn't a person. A sickly looking woman walked out of an alley. She looked malnourished with obvious bruising. Arthur looked in disgust as he walked by. Arthur turned the corner into the alleyway. The alleyway was small and at the end of it was a red door. Arthur opened the red door and in it revealed a lighted room with several people in it. The room had several narcotics on a table in the center and around it was furniture. Everyone rose and pointed their pistols at Arthur.

    "Who in the hell are you?!" said a large man with dreadlocks who seemed to be the ringleader.

    Arthur looked at all the men, they looked cocky, stupid, and hopeless.

    "I'm just a guy who happened to walk into the wrong door." said Arthur in a calm cool voice.

    "Well don't walk in here again or else I'll cut ya," the man proceeded to pull out a switch blade and put it against Arthur's face, he then looked at side and saw his silver dagger "drop that pretty little knife though first."

    Arthur smiled at the man, he looked confused. He looked even more confused right after Arthur cut into his throat. Arthur then moved at incredible speed, too hard for the people to get off a proper shot at him. Arthur punched one of the men on the chin sending him flying into the air several feet, the other people were stunned for a second allowing more time for Arthur to dispatch the thugs one by one.

    At the end of it everyone was knocked out except for the ring leader who was holding onto his neck trying to stop the bleeding. He made sure he was looking as he feasted on the men one by one. Each screaming as the life was being sucked out of them. After he was done he started to walk towards the door, Arthur stopped at the ringleader who now had a puddle of blood in front of him. He looked at him and flashed his bloody fangs, terrifying him. Arthur then stomped on the man's head feeling the skull and brain being crushed under his foot.

    Arthur returned to his car a good distance from the slums. He then drove on a street that would lead out of town. A good several miles on a hill lied a mansion. The gate opened as Arthur entered his thumb print on a machine outside. Arthur got out of his car and looked at the view he had over the city. He turned around and opened the large wooden doors. The room was dark, only the moonlight was going in but the light was still dim. Arthur clapped three times and several artificial candles were lit. The decoration of the mansion was dark with an old fashioned feeling for it. The walls had displays of several paintings and weapons in frames. In fact everywhere in the house you could see weapons, all of them for decoration and utility. In the end of the room their was a large staircase that would split off into two areas of the room. Arthur moved towards it until he noticed a letter on the floor. He picked up the letter and opened it up with his dagger. The letter was an invitation, at the bottom of the letter was the distinctive D that many vampires knew of.

    "Dorian Harbringer, what trouble will you bring now?" Arthur sighed as he moved towards the upstairs to get a change of clothes and weapons for the meeting. He knew this would likely lead to some trouble, but how could he resist?

    From that day... my arm changed...
    and a voice echoed...
    power...
    Give me more power!

    "Shepherd Book used to tell me, 'Can't do somethin' smart, do somethin' right'." -Jayne Cobb Firefly/Serenity

  3. #23
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    Default Better late then never ^^

    Name: Belladonna Elenora Lailana di Luca
    Nickname: Bell
    Age: 381 (appears 19)
    Gender: Female
    Branch: Remetian

    Dark Power:
    The first two abilities are stronger when Bell has just drunk blood and become less effective the more days without blood pass.

    Magia del Sangue (Blood Magic):
    Bell is someone to whom the Remetian name really applies. Het power lies in blood control whenever this is human or vampire blood. Basic forms of blood magic are all very simple to her. This includes blood boiling, blood freezing and creating weapons from her own blood.

    Sangue Flessione (Blood Bending):
    The power is the ability that Bell prefers since it requires less real action from her and can be performed more silently. The ability is a very advanced form of blood magic. It lets Bell control her opponents moves by bending their blood into the ways that she wanted it to. This can force opponents to stop moving or move against their will. A simple flick of her wrist is enough to activate this ability. Of course this ability cannot be used when Bell cannot see her opponents. Resistance is possible, but one should have a stronger mind/magic power then Bell to even start thinking about blocking the power.

    Acido Sangue (Acid Blood):
    A passive ability that Bell has, that is not often used in battle. Bell blood simply has significant lower pH then normal vampire/human blood making it like acid. Since the blood is like acid it has all the abilities that regular acid has too meaning it can burn its way through various materials, making a physical contact with Bell’s blood quite a painful experience.

    Weapon:
    Her enhanced powers are enough for her. If her powers can’t do the trick then possible weapons won’t do any good either.

    Appearance:

    ((Not made by me, but by tobiee on deviantart))

    Bell is 1,68m and weights 58 kg. Her eyes are a shimmering green with a flare of red in it when she has drunk blood and black mascara around it which makes her pale skin even whiter. Make-up is very important to Bell and she has always lipstick, dark red, and mascara on her face.
    Her normal attire in this era is a green jacket as in the picture together with black trousers and casual black and white shoes. Under her jacket she wears a short black shirt that reveals her bellybutton with the text I love NY in white. Of course her clothing closet is much bigger than just those clothes, a lot bigger if you consider that she has lived through many fashion periods and brought for every period an amazing amount of clothes.

    ((o.O There is no personality. Why do I realized those things after I typed them out? I'm just going to store it then. It wasn't good to begin with.))

    History: ((Read this, even if you think you already know her! I changed some things around in the end.))

    Bell was born in 1659 in Italian city Florence which was in that time under great influence from the Baroque and remains of the Renaissance. She grew up as a maiden of the house of di Luca, which meant in common terms wealth and power. She lived there together with her father Blair di Luca (leaving out the five other names and four titles he carried), her mother Fedora Gambino – di Luca, her three year older brother Tullio Baldassarre Dante di Luca and a whole bunch of servants.

    In the Renaissance the family di Luca had made a rise in status due the many new possibilities in culture, architecture and economy and belonged now to one of the mightiest families in Florence. Also when the first impression of the Renaissance faded away and the Baroque started the family stayed strong partly because of their bonds with the family di Medici from who Bell’s grandmother was a far relative. For Bell all this power and might meant nothing more than lovely dresses, the finest food and too much guys who asked for her hands and she enjoyed every minute of it. In the halls of Palazzo di Luca, which was situated on the Piazza San Lorenzo, time seemed to be limitless and the atmosphere always good. She wished many times that the world could stay just like this, of course she did not know what was in store for her, yet she wanted to grow up and have children of her own, live in a nice villa on one of her famous Piazza’s and meet famous people.

    All girls in Florence and in the rest of the world got married around their 15th, but Bell’s parent believed in a different approach. Studying, becoming knowledgeable was their first priority and so it happened that Bell parents gave her away in marriage on her 19th to the son of family Valeriani; Athos. They lived in Venice and to strengthen di Luca’s relationship with the Valeriani family and their trades to Venice Bell had to leave the house she had spend so much time in and which had guarded her for so many years. Yet she was not sad. No, she wanted to go. Finally she would get a man and live the life she had dreamed of. Eagerly she left to meet her husband to be and to get marriage. The cart in Florence left with Bell inside, but when her new husband opened the door of the with gold decorated cart it was empty. The only thing what was left from Bell where the cushions which were no longer blue, but red from blood. Bell would never meet the man she was about to marry face to face.

    Of course she went to see him after ‘it’ had happened, but it was not the same. The man who had changed her life and took her chance on getting happy away she never knew. They attacked her cart in the middle of the night with six of them and one of them must have been her killer or savior if you consider that all of the others in the cart died. Yet she had become a vampire and her past life was gone, it was a life she now could never live.

    Bell didn’t flee from Italy. She remained lingering in Venice looking how her husband cried for her, how her parents cried with him, how they moved on and eventually forgot her, how her parents died and Athos found a new wife, got children and eventually died in 1710 (54 year). Then she moved away. She moved down to Sicilia where she soon was found by a vampire family, the Remetians. Of course Bell had no idea yet that she was a Remetian, she had simply survived by feeding and had never felt the urge to test if she had anymore strengths than that. Their leader was Carlo Maimone, a ruthless man who used his power for nothing else then his own good. He looked like the common mafia leader you see in movie’s; black suit, black glasses, black hat, black polished shoes and a cigar in his mouth. He saw great potential in Bell and gave her permission to study in his house.

    During the 19th century Bell spend a great deal of her time in the libraries of the Sicilian family. As her knowledge grew so did her powers as a vampire. Soon her powers to blend blood became famous under the vampires in Sicilia. Carlo himself decided that it was time that he started take her training over. So the little princess from Florence disappeared and instead a girl came forth who did not hesitate to torture, cheat and kill.

    Currently Bell still lives in Italy as a representative of Carlo on the Sicilian Isle after the man moved to America. Their contact is quite good if something like that can be said about the relationship of the two. But recent events have even worried the progressive leader of the Remetians.
    Last edited by Fieryfly; 06-06-2011 at 08:21 PM.


    A man said to the universe:
    "Sir I exist."
    "However," replied the universe,
    "this hasn't created in me
    a sense of obligation."

  4. #24
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    The lights were out in the park, no shine illuminating the trees, no light to cast its reflection in the lake nearby middle with the fountain sprouting water from its pipes, every lamp having been mercilessly smashed in. All was pitch black except for one point of light, lying on a bench, hat drawn over his eyes a figure laid, cigarette in mouth, its point faintly smoldering. The man’s coat was old, worn with repairs and patches, an odd thing with bells at the end of each tail. The hat was the kind of thing one expect an entertainer or a person several centuries ago wear. Lifting it he gave them a glance before draping it over his eyes again, blowing out a smoke ring seemingly without a care in the world.
    Standing above him the men moved his hat to see him. Staring back at them was a young man, his hair a spiky gray mess, an amused glint in his eyes as he eyed them as attentively, the red eyes did not concern the men, contacts were popular. The both of them wore police uniforms and those slightly ridiculous hats that unfortunately were part of it. One shone a flashlight in the man’s face while the other eagerly held his hand above his holster, hoping for a bit of action on this boring night. The man with the flashlight was middle aged, his face bored, only wishing to get his shift done and get back home and sleep. His partner was the opposite, young and eager, not yet weary with the life of a police. Drawing in the smoke the man puffed out a cloud of smoke at the senior of the two who coughing waved it away.

    “Why hello there, decided to join me on this fine night officer?”

    “No, we’re looking for who smashed all the lamps here, you know anything about it?” he said wearily, far too accustomed with what a waste of time questioning people used to be.

    “As a matter of fact I do” the man said as he stared at the sky, “It was me, thought it be nice to do some stargazing, but then I changed my mind and rested my eyes a bit instead. A bit pointless smashing them all in, eh?” he said as reached his hand inside of his hat, rummaged a bit inside it and with a satisfied sound took out a small bottle filled with clear liquor, opening it the stench of it hit the policeman, that had to be almost, if not 100% alcohol “still, now that I look at them, sure one of my better ideas” he said as he took a sip of his liquor.

    Somewhat surprised but pleased he didn’t have to spend a night on a worthless search for the criminal he gave his college a sign to get his gun up. The man was a classic drunk vandal, and he had been in the police long enough to learn a few precautions were a good idea “Well then, you’re under arrest for destroying government property, down on the ground” he said as he took out the handcuffs as the man obediently went down after on the ground, after having placed back his bottle. Just before placing the handcuffs a song pierced the air from one of the man’s numerous pockets. “Oh, might I answer that? Before you confiscate it and all, I hate people to think I ignore them so should tell them I be in prison for a while” Rummaging in the man’s pockets he found his mobile, an old outdated thing, about what he expected. Turning of the music he checked the owners name before checking the sender, Gideon Scurra.

    “Come on, it’s a crappy thing I know but no need to stare, who is it?”
    “It’s from somebody named D”
    “D?” the man asked puzzled, “Give it here will you?”

    Shrugging the police bent down, clicking the message and showed it to Gideon “Oh damn, it’s him, figures, the only bastard arrogant enough to think he owns a letter. You don’t see me referring myself as G are you? No you don’t. Sure one guy I don’t want to see, still this is important. Sorry guys but can’t come with you, was looking forward to escape prison again, but hey, what the heck! I got to check this one out” Placing his hands on the ground he swung his legs around, swiping away the policeman’s legs while pushing himself up, reaching inside his coat, cane the size for a child in hand he threw it at the other policeman before he could shot, knocking the gun from his hands. Jumping over he grabbed the gun and his cane and aimed the pistol at the other police who just had reached towards his own pistol. “Surprise, surprise, didn’t think I could do that did you? Throw the gun here now would you?” Gritting his teeth the policeman threw the gun over, able to do nothing as the man put both guns in his coat. Leaning on his cane which somehow seemed to have grown to suit his size he smiled at the pair “Need these I believe, if this goes poorly I probably need them, if this goes well I probably need them too. Thinking about it however this goes I will need some firepower” Shrugging he rushed into the dark, the bells on his cloak jingling, the sound accompanying the vanishing figure till they too disappeared. Staring at his senior the junior of the team said “What the hell did just happen?”
    “Shit, I hoped you tell me”
    Last edited by Befram; 09-14-2011 at 08:59 PM.

  5. #25
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    A warm southern wind swept through the streets of New York. The city is still regarded as ”The City that Never Sleeps”, this title is more than suitable. Humans roamed the city during the day while the vampires roamed during the night, a perfect harmony which was as easy to break as a chicken egg. Sirens screamed in the distance, the choir created by the terror filled people echoed throughout the city.
    Theodore was fascinated by this chaos, the chaos had always existed and it would never stop existing. If only he could understand it. This was an impossibility however. He was more than lost about himself than anything else.. This disease, this branch was something that prevented Theodore from focusing. The anxious whispers of the past, present and future barred the entrance to Theodore. Yet these whispers seemed to always point him in the right direction..

    Theodore had no intention on joining some farce orchestrated by Dorian Harbinger. Then again his cynical side was now the defining part of him so that played a big part of his likes and dislikes. Theodore kept watching outside from one of the windows in his hotel suite. This was a very convenient spot for him. He was allowed to watch the outside world while they could not watch him, or at least they didn't bother to watch him. The box with the tuft of Isabelle's hair and the invitation letter still rest on the table near Theodore. As if being possessed by the ever obnoxious curiousness, Theodore had to open the box and feel Isabelle's tuft of hair again.

    Theodore: ”Flowing honey, the color of thine pure hair, Mother. Devil's Eyes defiled thine wilted flower of a carcass, did the curious florist's work on thine beautiful scalp and left thee open, waiting for an autopsy. This mind struggles to comprehend such an occurrence.”

    A small sparkle emerged from Theodore's forehead, like a sweatdrop, and fell on the floor. The sparkle flashed once before starting to grow. Soon a little being stood right in front of Theodore, looking at him with two bright yellow eyes. The being twitched its head to the side, as if trying to figure out what was going on inside Theodore's head. After staring Theodore for half a minute, the being grew a huge smile on its face and started laughing. It pointed its thin finger at Theodore and rolled on the floor laughing. Theodore himself couldn't quite understand the hilarity of the situation. He stood there silently, waiting for the little being to stop laughing.

    Little Guy: ”You have a funny face!” The being said with a childish, yet raspy voice.
    Theodore: ”A demon made of black licorice stands before me, yet again has one broken its shackles. Shall I banish thee into Ether, candy?”
    Little Guy: "Nooo.. I wanna plaaaaaay.. Kcha, kcha!” The being had a twisted laughter and a very.. abnormal way of speaking.

    The being ran to the counter and grabbed a kitchen knife from one of the drawers. It faced Theodore with its mouth wide open and head hanging on the side, as if it was being hanged. The being laughed again before running to the door and looking for a way out. Theodore took immediate control of the little being before it was able to escape and drew its ”heart” out, as in one of Theodore's emotions.

    The being's body evaporated into thin air and the small sparkle from earlier flew back into Theodore's forehead. Theodore threw the tuft of hair back into the box, took his white cane with a golden ball on top and walked out. It seemed he had a change of heart, in fact his whole demeanor changed into a more.. merry one. He laughed on his way to the stairs, while walking down the stairs and when he exit the hotel.

    Theodore: ”A joyful occasion awaits this Joyful mind, so why hasn't it swum to the party yet? Because of a shark in the bowl? Hoho! Such is the ridicule of this world!”

    Adelaide's HQ was only a short distance away so Theodore walked, laughing merrily while giving his cane a spin every now and then. Those few midnight walkers turned their heads around as Theodore walked past them and laughed. They chose not to act, perhaps it was too bothersome Whatever the reason, Theodore made his way to Adelaide's HQ with no problems. Finally Theodore arrived to the entrance of the HQ. The splendor of granite walls and bloody carpet were always rather breathtaking.

    Theodore: ”The guard hound stands before this Joyful mind, what is thine calling?”
    Security guard: ”Hmm? Oh, a Likava. Great, just fantastic.”
    Theodore: ”Thine words lie, guard hound. Let this Joyful mind pleasure itself with the electronic staircase.”
    Security guard: ”Electronic staircase.. Pfft, right. Wait, wait! Hold it. What's your name, pal?”
    Theodore: ”This mind is Joyful.”
    Security guard: ”Ugh.. what was the name you went with when you were alive?”
    Theodore: ”My used handle was Theodore de la Xeshkat. Let it be known, that title no longer qualifies this existance.”
    Security guard: ”Yeah, whatever. People still call you Theodore so deal with it. Have a nice flight, fossil.”
    Theodore: ”This mind sends a thank you for thee, bulldog.”

    Theodore stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button for the 50th floor. The usual elevator music sprang to life as the elevator started moving. Theodore stared at the buttons, not moving an inch. He was afraid of these futuristic contraptions. Once the elevator reached its destination, Theodore quickly jumped out and pat on his suit as if it had been dirtied by the elevator.

    He walked inside the meeting room and was met with a bunch of cold stares. Right next to him stood Jack and his demon companion: Mikaj. Jullianna-Maria had taken her place behind Michael, watching over him like a guardian angel. Michael was sitting and looking as tired as ever. On the other end of the table sat Dorian himself and next to Dorian was the ever disgusting council representative of the Nosferatus, Shade. Theodore walked over to the gothic window, crossed his arms behind his back while holding his cane and started watching through the window.

    Theodore: ”This Joyful presence has arrived, Devil's Eyes.”
    Last edited by Takesh; 06-09-2011 at 04:19 PM.

  6. #26
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    Talking WARNING!!! This post is a two in one special! :p

    Curse of a Vampire
    The cursed six



    "It all started with three words: She will live..."


    Sounds like bones being snapped one after the other erupted eerily in the night. Seconds ticked by and the crackling became louder. Suddenly, a deafening yelp invoked further screams, the discord rivaling a tortured soul. Then, all too suddenly, the shrieks were quieted, as if to keep all that will happen a secret. Without a moon to emit its soothing light and stars to guide them, the youthful group continued to meander in sheer darkness -- or not? Perhaps the more sensible members of the group clicked their flashlights into life, the might of their lights shredding away the darkness for miles. However, from the distance they stood, the light was far too blinding. Immediately, the light was lowered to a level that barely revealed the stone crosses and humped pillars all around them. Yes, the group of five had escaped into the night for an outing...to a cemetery, no less.

    "W-w-wait! If you both had flashlights, why didn't either of you use it until now?" The person who had spoken was Asya, the only Sophomore in the group and, so far, the youngest amongst them. Her bravery to speak out against her older peers was probably the result of her appearance. Asya was a spunky sixteen year old who parted her hair from the far right of her head to the left for a "mature" look. And it certainly gave her maturity -- at least in appearance. Her hair was bouncy, healthy, and curled only enough to give the impression that it "floated". She obviously loved styling her hair in ways that complimented her emerald eyes, but it was her matured body that caused people to question her age. To put it simply, from her fashion and posture to her height and body composition, she looked two years older than she should look. Asya is still pondering whether this is a good thing or not.

    "Hahah- It's probably -heh- b-because you -haha- took a tumble into -ha- a gr-grave earli -- hahahahah! Ah, your face was priceless! It was more frightening than your scream -- hahaha!" Jabbing his finger at Asya and wiping the tears that came from excessive laughter was Avon, a nineteen year old Junior who stayed back two years in his Freshman years. He was obviously the oldest of them all, but judging from the glare coming from Asya, she certainly didn't respect him as such, despite his looks. Dirty blonde spikes were tussled around on his head, the tips nearly white in hue. Bronze skin highlighted his athletic frame and, during the rare moments of seriousness, his dark eyes held an intensity that would woe any girl. Sadly, his happy-go-lucky lifestyle and comfortable attire that consisted of torn jeans, bright hoodies, and oversized shirts supposedly passed down from his older brother became a quick turn-off.

    "Avon, focus. If we dally too long, the person responsible will have to commit to the punishment game." The female wielder of the light dropped her voice to a dangerous, low volume. As she hoped, her words became chills that ceased all jokes and even resulted in a few shivers. Her name was Circe, an eighteen year old Senior with narrowed eyes even darker than Avon's. Of course, she traced her eyes with a black eyeliner specifically to creep people out, especially handy for the caption of the debate team. To add to her seemingly gothic features, Circe cut her jet black hair into a bob, some strands wavering over her eyes in a menacing manner. Even her sense of fashion was decked in black, ranging from feminine suits to a pencil skirt and a plain, unattractive blouse -- which she happened to be wearing at the moment.

    "Zoth awaits us at 'a looming tombstone that gains visibility only on the darkest of nights.' The forecast suggested a new moon next week, but as we are near the heart of the city, not a single star can be seen and the skyscrapers properly hinder any moonlight from shining over this cemetery." Keeping her head tilted to a small notepad in her hands and only shifting her eyes to the sky was the least known amongst the group, Lamia. Only her classmates, Avon and Zoth, knew who she was beyond being a sports maniac. Being a 17 year old Junior, she already went through girls' basketball, tennis, soccer, and, as of this year, volleyball, baseball, and track and field. There are rumors that she even practices archery in whatever free time she has in order to increase accuracy and focus -- something Avon should work on. All the sun exposure gave her tanned skin, a pity after bleaching her wavy, brown hair blonde in order to compliment her azure eyes.

    "...Let's go." That was their second in command, the young man with few words named Damian. Everyone watched as he whirled his flashlight to the tallest tombstone they ever saw, a spectacle that only those incapable of seeing through darkness -- which was everyone without the flashlights -- would miss. Damian took one more glance back, revealing the third pair of eyes like coal. After he knew he had everyone's attention, he swung his hair forward, causing his red locks to swish with the motion. His stoic nature fit perfectly as a student librarian, but oddly, he was also on the debate team. That raised some questions, particularly as to whether or not it was required to keep up a social barrier as a member of the debate team. Perhaps the hardest aspect about Damian to figure out, though, was how someone with such a normal past living in a normal household with normal parents would join in the antics of such suspicious kids on such an auspicious night.


    "...The words spurn ideas of the afterlife, and of a girl rising from her grave..."


    Wearily waiting for his companions was Zoth, who hummed merrily to a soft melody. The melody poured from his gray goggles with orange tinted lens. Being somewhat of a genius, Zoth equipped them with audio, radio, and a calling feature -- not that he would risk coming off as panic by calling someone. Instead, he pressed his head on the tombstone behind him, his mint green hair contrasting with the pitch black surface. Boring! Slamming his hands on the ground, Zoth jerked forward, preparing to leap on his feet, but decided against it. Patience. But Zoth was never patient. How else would he have skipped his Sophomore year if he had complied with the expectations of Freshman and learn according to his teachers and peers?! It was patience that cost him a graduation at the age of sixteen, but it was okay. Everything that would happen today, before the sun dared to interrupt the process, would make up for his "patience".

    Settling back in a relaxed position, Zoth couldn't help but grin at the tombstone above him, his amethyst irises glittering with excitement. It wasn't an ordinary tombstone, that was for sure, but it also wasn't as supernatural as the rumors made it sound. Zoth would know, considering he exaggerated the fragmented tale he had found lingering on the internet. A contraption in the form of a tombstone would certainly give life to a little girl who wished to live once more, but again, that would be too simple. A ghostly girl popping up out of nowhere would backtrack to those silly little tests of courage the people of the past loved so much. No, he would go so much further. Granted, the girl would appear, but so would a wild fire to punish the children who mocked her untimely death. The fire would spark miniature bombs, creating panic and chaos. But it was all just a game, a fun experiment with the pawns he gathered.

    "Ah, here they come! Excellent! Let the game begin -- huh? Now that's strange. Did those rumors attract unwanted guests? Hm...either way, my fun won't stop here!" Zoth hopped on his toes, sprinting towards his five "friends." Casually eyeing them all, he realized the two additional figures his goggles allowed him to spot were no longer present. However, he knew his eyes did not deceive him. There was a tall fellow and...a girl who looked awfully familiar.


    "...She would have six sins, each sin to mirror six souls..."


    Asya, Avon, Circe, Lamia, Damian, and the leader of them all, Zoth. They all held an unyielding fear in their hearts, not so much from a sorrowful past, but rather, from facing a crossroad. One path would have them lost forever in regrets and the other would lead to discovering meaning in their short lives. Such a crossroad is a part of life as a human, and as such, wouldn't interest a vampire who transcended such problematic blockades. However, how many vampires would have the chance for their unfulfilled self to judge six perplexing teens? Lingering in midair was a girl with heaps of gray hair trailing down her back and big, childish eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes. It enraged the existing version how well a kid decades after her death could mimic her sickly state and distinct details in an animated doll.

    "How dare those sinful kids make a cheap clone of my past self! Look at them, Lich! Those...jerks look as if they are worshipping her -- me -- grr! Come on! My bloods getting low and I think a good scare would do them some good, especially that no-good nihilist!"

    "If I knew any better, I would say your blood pressure is abnormally high for someone who had "fast" for some time, Ruki."

    "Don't be ridiculous, Lich. I'm 'dead,' remember?" For a moment, a genuine smile appeared on Ruki's face. Although mostly serious, Lich's dry humor paid off as an undead.

    Ruki's and Mikhail's comedic sideshows always lightened the mood between them, but nothing was better than putting on a show for someone expecting a completely different show. First up was manipulating the doll, which began to speak of six sins: grief, laziness, lies, lost hope, lovelessness, and, as already stated, nihilism. Ruki truly wanted the doll to state "the future of nothingness for the wasteful lunatic and no-good believer of absolutely nothing," but that would alert Zoth that the doll he and everyone else were listening to wasn't his doll. As Ruki planned, a collaborative focus on one point (the doll) would allow for collaborative fears -- at least at first. In other words, they all saw and heard the same thing under the control of Lich's "Terror," but soon their fears would manifest in their individual sins.

    The first to fall was Asya, who began screaming uncontrollably. She thrust her hands upon her head, shaking it for the images to go away, but they simply wouldn't. Before she knew it, Asya was fourteen once more, a year before transferring from the public schools she knew so well to the ones in New York. Her younger sister, five years old at the time, had just gotten a bottle full of liquor broken against her head. She cried out, clawed her way to her sister, only to be snatched up by her hateful father and sliced by the now shattered bottle. "Help me, please!" was shouted over and over again, but Asya was helpless. Her arms were locked behind her back by her own mother, who watched her youngest child being tortured as if in a trance. Then, when her sister took her last breath, Asya finally understood why her world was falling apart: her mother was pregnant. That's why their hope had faded away. A baby for a mother who only had girls, a chance for the boy the tyrant of a father wished to raise. "No, not again...please, I don't want to die! Why do I have to be replaced?!"

    Those last few words triggered the fear within Damian, the not so perfect son with two doting parents. He was an only child, a child who was spoiled and nurtured lovingly, but they weren't his parents. No one else knew but him, and the worse part was that his real parents were still alive! He had seen them, and it was at that moment that he couldn't believe in love. Standing across the street, laughing without a care in the world, was a beautiful and young woman, a charismatic and robust man, and...a spirited, little girl. They were his true parents, but when he passed them along the crosswalk, not a single sign of recognition was given to him. Was that love? How could he, as a young boy, remember the mother and father who packed and left him as a kid, abandoned him with not so much as a note, only to resurface with another child in the place he belonged?! "How frivolous. Why seek the approval of those who don't appreciate all that you've done to be recognized?"

    Ruki could almost sympathize with Damian, but she couldn't allow her mind to slip into the past. Lich was affecting the group one after the other, empowered by their connecting fears. If Ruki would have reflected on the events that lead to her rebirth, she would have been lost within the world of "Terror" like Asya and Damian and now Circe and Avon.

    Circe was the first one to submit, her mind spinning with all that she accomplished and none of all that she did amounting to the efforts of her older brother. Avon could relate, struggling against his three older sisters in elementary school with no idea that he couldn't affect his parents the way his sisters did. What separated the two was Circe's determination to keep her brother's success a secret from her high school and to downplay everything she did to the parents she thought would care less either way. The lies continued and, to her relief, she managed to gain success in school without being overshadowed by her brother, No one would know how much Circe suffered because of those lies, at least no one who knew her in high school. But Avon had seen her since elementary school, witnessing her fall and pick herself up with all that she could muster within herself. He thought she would end up like him, but after seeing her change and the birth of his younger sister rivaling that of his artistic, intellectual, and logical sisters, his laziness ebbed away. So why was she so scared?!


    "...And when her sins were told, she would judge her now sinned souls."


    Zoth whipped his head around, seemingly unaffected by the "Terror" encroaching upon his prey. The girl he had spotted earlier had just spoken, but the uncanny similarities to the doll he had made couldn't be a coincidence. Once he knew that the two girls were the same people, Zoth couldn't help but burst out in laughter. Ruki wasn't going to show any mercy to such a brat. Darting forward, Ruki flashed in front of Zoth with amazing speed, gaining the upper hand. But she paused. Avon was able to see the ghastly spell wrapped around him and his friends, and he wasn't about to let the stranger before him get away with what she did. Interestingly, he not only managed to block Zoth, but he also held Circe with his right arm, attempting to snap her out of whatever had a hold of her.

    "You got some nerve--"

    His actions caught her off guard, but Avon was just close to a century too late to stop her. Bending her right leg and sweeping her left leg to trip her target, Ruki head-butted him before launching her fangs at his arms. By now, Ruki knew how dumb it was to simply bite someone and leave her teeth marks as evidence that vampires exist, so she made them her weapon. Once her teeth punctured his skin, Ruki tore at it by dragging her teeth downwards and then ripped them out. Blood gushed into a crimson mess on his arms, at which Circe zipped over to Ruki as back up. That didn't last long. Ruki rotated out of the way as a powerful punch was aimed at her, countering it with a dropping kick to Circe's neck. Although it was an unsatisfying spot, Ruki dragged her teeth diagonally along Circe's back, sending one more kick where the fresh wounds resided.

    "Don't worry," Ruki dunked as Avon made a grab at her and then hurled him into Circe, "neither of you will die today."

    The nightmare still played in Asya's head, but the noise of pain and resentment echoed closer and closer. Her fury at her mother was subsiding. The kicks she sent to her mother's belly was becoming more and more meaningless. Gradually, Asya recalled a doctor announcing the faked pregnancy her mother clung to for sanity and escape from the tormentor that was her husband. They both had grieved for their sins, so why was she reliving something that couldn't be changed? More importantly, she wanted to convey her feeling to the one person who hardened his heart towards her: Damian. She wanted him more than anyone to know he loved her, and when her sight returned, and she saw the outcome of Avon and Circe, she knew now could be the last chance to let him know of her love.

    "Damian, you coward -- e-ewwww! Wha-what is this?!" The green spirits shrieking at her were fading with her consciousness restored, but it still freaked her out. If given the chance, Asya probably could out-scream them in pitch, but once she saw Ruki's locked gaze upon her, Asya resumed her declaration. "Damian, do you realize how many hearts you broke?! No, that's not right -- shit! -- ugh, I'll just say it! I love you, and if tonight -- er, if today is our last, I want you to love me in return! I know it's selfish, but be my first love and let me be yours!"

    Ruki waited a few seconds for the love-birds to open their hearts to each other. If anything, seeing your fears drawn out in front of your eyes and then overcoming them was enough for Ruki to show sympathy...again. What was it with these six -- no, four. She unleashed her last acts of kindness to the possible couple before facing the only two who didn't succumb to "Terror": Zoth and Lamia.

    "Why should I let the both of you live?" Lamia's down-casted eyes revealed she wouldn't speak, but just as Zoth's lips parted, Ruki interrupted him. "Don't answer the question! I already know all I need to know. Zoth, you won't be dying today because, unlike these 'pawns' you were so willing to endanger, you still haven't found your reason to live. Sorry but, I don't kill incompetent, juvenile hooligans. Oh, and I'm referring to you, kid." Ruki pointed at Zoth, upsetting him till his face turned red.

    "Shut up! And just who is the kid here?! A century has already passed and you only have time for a bunch of misfit--"

    "The real misfit is you. Sweet dreams."
    Last edited by lokuri; 06-10-2011 at 07:41 PM.

    Nurarihyon no Mago!
    Quote:
    Inpa: "...I got your mask already, look! Isn't it pretty?”
    Balthazar: ”Urgh.. !! It's pink..”
    Inpa: ”Oh please, it's called being metrosexual!..."
    -- farag0n; Tales of Amn

  7. #27
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    Curse of a Vampire
    A tutto c'è rimedio, fuorchè alla morte.

    There is a cure for everything except death

    Intro Music

    Softly purring the jet soared over the Atlantic Ocean. Below the waves crashed against each other in an endless battle for domination. Above the sky was black. There were no clouds for which the pilot of the plane was glad. He disliked flying in the dark, but flying in the dark and with limited sight was even worse. The moonlight gave the plane a soft silver glance. Inside the only sounds were the soft tunes of an oboe that entered the passengers’ room through the intercom. The only passenger had her eyes closed as the song filled the silence. Georg Philipp Telemann’s Partita number two in G major. One of her favorites. Even though Telemann’s music had never found its ways to the di Luca halls when life was still normal it reminded her inevitable of home. The soft tunes of the oboe carried her back to the days of pleasure, simplicity and happiness. They seemed so long ago and truth to be told they were. More than three hundred years had passed since the last time she had set foot in the di Luca estate. The house with the marble floor in the hall and the wooden carpet in the ballroom. The moon had reflected the same way on the silver decorations of her window as it did now on the wings of the plane.

    Signora everything to your wish?”

    Bell opened her eyes and slowly moved her glance to the stewardess. The man shifted uncomfortable under the stare. “Yes, thank you.” She finally spoke. Unseen -- or that he thought -- the man breathed out and made a small bow before hurrying away. Again the only thing that broke the silence was Telemann’s partita.

    Letting the music wash over her Bell closed her hand around the letter that lay on her lap. She had read it several times already, but still she felt frustrated about it.

    My dear Belladonna,

    It has been so long since we’ve seen each other. Why don’t you join me on my regular meeting next week? It would be absolutely lovely to see your face again. Actually I already arranged everything considering work and transportation with your employer. You don’t mind that, do you? I will personally make sure that your stay will be utmost comfortable.

    Until then,

    Your eternal friend

    D


    Bastard. As if he could hide his true meaning under his fancy words. They had met, two times, and although first impressions weren’t thing that Bell normally stuck too, she had found out that signore Harbinger -- or Dorian as he wanted her to call him which she refused to do out of principal -- was exact the vampire you would expect him to be. A smooth talker. Always poking his nose into other people’s business, giving away hits that he knew more about the secrets you carried than you wanted him to know.

    As soon as she had received the message she had dialed the head of the Remetian family and spoken out her dislike of the letter. Dorian might demand her for a mission, but he had nothing to say about her. Her loyalty didn’t lie by him. Not even a bit. However the Remetian council head had supported the Vertrue vampire for once.

    “Adelaide is concerned and so am I. The movements of the clan are… troubling. We don’t want witnesses, signorina di Luca. We vampires have lived silently for many ages as they should. We can’t have people walking around knowing about us, you know that.”

    “You want me to go and accept the mission then I assume?”

    “Indeed. Information is always a nice thing to receive.”

    “I understand.”

    “One other thing. Seeing as things are now it is likely that there will be two other members or our clan present: Deus Crimson and Lestan de Launchét.”

    “Deus Crimson? I haven’t heard from him.”

    “He is only forty years old, but he suffices. I take it you are familiar with signore de Launchét.”

    “His name has reached my ears if that is what you mean. A Frenchman. His blood magic is said to be almost unrivaled.”

    “He is older then you.”

    There was a silence.

    “Anything else you want me to do sir?”

    “No, that is all. I expect first hand information later. Keep your eyes open.”

    “I will sir.”

    “Oh and my privet jet will be at your disposal. Signore Harbinger will take care of the rest.”

    The line had been cut of rigorously.

    Bell rumpled the paper into a ball and let it fall out of her hand. It hit the ground with a soft tick and rolled away under one of the other chairs. She shifted her eyes to the window. They were still flying over sea though in the far distance she could see land. It wouldn’t be long before they reached America. The meeting had probably already started, but signore Harbinger himself had assured her that being late was not a bother. She wondered suddenly if it was the Remetian council head or signore Harbinger that had picked her for this mission.

    In the reflection of the window her hair had the color of fresh blood. Her throat suddenly felt dry. She pressed a button that was located on her right and immediately the stewardess appeared.

    “You called signora?”

    “Yes, bring me a drink please. A+ will suffice.” She said.

    “Right away signora.”

    Bell sat back again and watched how the land crept closer and closer. The servant returned with her drink which she almost eagerly accepted. As the good man hurriedly made his way back to the front she called after him. Afraid that he might have done something wrong the man spun around on his heels and faced her again though he kept his eyes low. He didn’t want to face the red glimmer that had appeared in his passenger’s green eyes.

    “Yes signora?”

    “Please be so good to put on some music from Death Valley. Let’s see how well this signor de Launchét can write.”
    Last edited by Fieryfly; 06-10-2011 at 08:47 PM.


    A man said to the universe:
    "Sir I exist."
    "However," replied the universe,
    "this hasn't created in me
    a sense of obligation."

  8. #28
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    Deus threw some cloths into his small luggage bag. He didn’t know how long he would be away, so he made sure he was somewhat prepared. He headed on back to the lab, passing a few other scientists whose gazes were of that of a long trance. Deus entered the lab and looked over to his table noticing the decent sized vials on it. Deus walked over, placed them into the container, and closed it. He then slid it into his bag. He started to walk over to the computer when a sharp pain went throughout his stomach area. He could feel his throat being all dry. He hadn't fed on blood in a long time.

    "Alfred, grab me a O bag please and put it in a traveling mug. I'll drink it on the way there."
    "You could just make a pit stop on one of the humans on the way there...." Deus glared at him. "You know why I don't do that. Also pack some in a cold container and "minimize" it for me". Alfred grabbed a few bags and placed it in a box like object. He opened up some holographic modules, pushed some numbers and instantly it became as small as a ring box.

    "Deus....you got a call" Alfred flicked his hand and the large screen showed a familiar face.
    "I told you not to contact me in the office Zen. If they find out I am talking to you..."
    "It is fine my friend. They are all preoccupied with this meeting." Deus would have questioned why he knew that, but Zen had people in all the right places. His sources were always correct.

    "It is something big Deus. We don't know what it is, because the council has been really hush hush about it."

    Deus continued to throw stuff into his bag. "How about the others from our section?"

    Zen looked down and began to type. "I got two and..." He whistled. "You are like a baby compared to them." He began to laugh. Deus gave him a "really again with this joke?" glare.

    "Names?"

    "One is Belladonna Elenora Lai.....something something something. Damn that is a long name. And the other is Lestan de Launchét. Both are pretty high blood mages. That Bella is pretty cut..."

    Deus waived his hand. "Yea yea yea. And you wonder why every girl leaves you." Deus walked over to the screen. "I am leaving now. Contact me through my cell."


    "Sounds good. Good luck. Try to get as much information as you can. And if you can, see if one of them might join us. Another high level vampire is always welcomed."

    "Yep. Don't have to tell me." Deus looked at Alfred who closed the connection. "Ready?" Alred shrugged. "I always hate doing this."

    Deus walked over to the skull figure and stood infront of it. He bit his finger, blood starting to roll down his arm. He made small circular spell circle on the skulls head and began to chant in another language.

    Shia si vyrdaes sar vaelodi ail ti, Ai eilyrn thys si vesorarol ossor myr sai vaerodi ail ti. Ai eis oli shor o shys.

    ((Translation: By the powers that are within me, I allow for the purification of this soul to reside in me. I am one with the world.))

    I small light started to glow from the skull. Alfred then traveled into Deus, almost as if trying to take over him. After a few more seconds, everything calmed down.
    Damn, the first time always hurts the most. Deus though.

    Yea tell me about it, I'm a ghost and somehow felt pain there.
    Alfred replied in Deus's head. To keep Alfred from being exposed to everyone, Deus and Alfred figured out a way to coincide in one body. This way they could converse without anyone hearing them. The process doesn't last that long before the ritual has to be cast again. Deus also doesn't have to worry about Alfred trying to take him over, for they have known each other for a long time.... and Deus put a protective psychic shield around his brain. Deus quickly put the skull in his bag, and walked down to his car. The headquarters was just an hour away, and he could feel the hunger for blood increasing within him.

    Upon arriving, the man infront of the desk didn't even bulge.

    "Name?"

    "Deus Crimson"

    He looked down at his list and a small smile appeared. "Ahh so the baby has arrived."

    Deus shook his head. The joke was so overused. The guard waved Deus through and Deus hopped on the elevator pushing the 50th floor button. As he hopped off the elevator he made his way to the room and opened the door.


    ((also edited Deus's powers. Kinda new stuff so take a look if you can ))
    Last edited by *sky; 06-11-2011 at 12:51 AM.


    Quote Originally Posted by Paladuck View Post
    The economy is really rough, all those Chinese gold farmers are out of a job.

  9. #29
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    Seth took another swig from his thermos as he gazed from the headquarters to the postcard in his hand. A perfect match, save for the time of day. Seth placed the postcard back in his jacket pocket and went inside. The blood red carpet and cold granite walls did nothing to alleviate Seth's concerns. Not only that, but the rather dangerous looking guard stationed in front of the elevator doors did not exactly give Seth a warm and fuzzy feeling either. Seth approached the guard cautiously, who looked up and gave dismissive wave before shuffling though some papers on his desk.

    "Another one, hmm? Alright, name?"

    "Seth Green." Seth said, wrinkling his brows. "There're others?"

    The guard ignored him, looking at his papers for a second, before letting out a whistle. "Damn... You haven't even hit the double dead decade yet? I thought this was a grown ups only meeting... Why did they even call you here?"

    "...That was sort of my question..."

    The guardsman smiled. "Oooh right... I do know what's going on around here... Of course I'm not going to tell you... There'd be no fun in that... Now would there?"

    "Is this the part where I ignore you and walk on over to the elevators?"

    "Hey! And the kid does know what's going on!" The guard added a slow handclap of applause to the dripping sarcasm. Seth rolled his eyes and headed for the elevators, but the guard chimed in again once Seth walked though the elevator doors.

    "Oh, and one more thing, kiddo. Your file has a few things to say about your... 'control issues'. Just wanted to let you know that they're not going to be slow about putting you down if you go rabid. Ok puppy pup?"

    Seth's glare towards the guard's grinning face was the only response he managed to get out before the doors closed. Seth knew what it felt like to be rabid... Loosing control wasn't an unfamiliar concept.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    It was not even a year sense he became a vampire. A beast of the night as some called it. One who thirsts for blood... and tonight he was thirsty. Very thirsty. He had been warned never to go long without blood. He knew what the consequences could be... but he still insisted to try to hold onto his humanity with all his might. He refused to drink from humans, and he resorted to hunting local animals. Animal blood, however, could not even manage to take the edge off his hunger. And now his stubbornness had cost him.

    Seth stumbled though the vacant city streets, eyes wide and gasping for air. It was not for the need of air that he gasped, but the fact that Seth was looking for anything to distract him from the hunger that only continued to grow. Seth focused all his thoughts on his breathing.

    Air in, air out. Air in, air out.

    Seth's heightened senses picked up something, off in the corner of his eye, he saw them. His sharpened eyes picked out two figures in the darkness. A woman and a man. The man carried a knife, the woman carried a look of fear and helplessness. Seth began to retreat away before he did something he would regret. But that was before the woman cried out for help. She called out desperately. The man was going to rape her. She couldn't do anything. She needed to be saved.

    No! No, don't do it. Walk away, before you kill them both. Come on! Air in, air out, air in, air out.

    The woman's cries for help came between sobs, and Seth could not help but look back for a second. A dangerous mistake. He could see them, so fragile in comparison... His fear flooded eyes could pick out the veins popping out on their skin. They beckoned to be broken, to let the life force flow from it and onto his parched tongue...

    No! Air in! Air out! Air in! Air... Air... He wasn't breathing any more, the backwards glance became a full about face, and before Seth could fully comprehend what he was doing, Seth was charging full force toward the humans. He did not care anymore. Screw air!

    All that followed was blood. Blood and the beast.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    The elevator ping awoke Seth to the real world again, and he put his memories aside for another day.

    "Seth Green here, what's all this hoopla about?"
    Last edited by Cybalt; 06-11-2011 at 04:19 AM.

  10. #30
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    Moving through the mass of people, avoiding one person here, smacking another whose fingers reached towards his pockets there he wondered briefly why the day and night held such power. He was walking amongst people who took this time of darkness to live lives and perform actions that would be frowned at in the daylight, but if they told people what they did during the night all they get was a laugh and a clap in the back no matter how much it be frowned at in daylight, funny that. Not that he specially cared about what people did, he did not do it now and he couldn’t remember overly caring about that before turning either. There were some things that people did that he cared about though, like whenever his clan leader tried to convince him that he had “obligations”, how he hated that word. His own clan leader, more than two hundred years younger than him, something Gideon never forgot to remind him of, had said that word far too often to him.
    And now he was being lent to the big D, one of the most powerful vampires of today. And he had just been lying silently, minding his own business taking a smoke, a drink and performing some acts of vandalism a bit earlier, life sure had a fun way to screw itself up.

    Arriving at the building he yanked the door open and stepped in into its splendor and wealth. There was some serious cash spent in just making the reception, when thinking about the whole building well, it made him dizzy just thinking about the numbers involved.
    Approaching the guard he raised his head and gave him the classical guard look filled with dislike.

    “They just keep coming, who might you be then?”
    “Depends what you mean with that, do you want to know exactly who I am in personality, perhaps who I am in terms of social status and power, or is it just my name you wish to hear?” he said, not being able to resist messing a bit with him.
    “Just give me the ****ing name”
    “Gideon Scurra, self proclaimed lamp smasher”
    “Mm, well that’s great pal, just shup up and get into that elevator, 50th floor”
    “shut up, elevator, got it”

    Strolling inside the box, the doors closing behind him he pushed the button and felt the slight pressure from the elevator going upwards, humming with the elevator tune Gideon wondered exactly what Dorian wanted, he was pretty sure he wasn’t the first vampire that came in mind when wanting something done. The elevator coming to a stop he stepped out and into the meeting room. Noticing Shade first of all, it was impossible not to notice the Nosferatu, not so much for his appearance but the stench ramming into ones nose. Still, at least he knew Shade wasn’t as gray and dull as Dorian, if only not for the smell he could almost be pleasant company. Besides Shade there were a couple of other vampires spread out in the room. And in the center was of course Dorian. Standing in attention he raised his hand in a mock salute towards the Vertrue leader “Gid present and wondering what the hell he’s here for”
    Last edited by Befram; 09-14-2011 at 09:03 PM.

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